Bittersweet Syrup
by Kei Lawliet
Summary: One-sided CanadaxUS, USxUK.  The only one I have to blame is myself for being the way I am. Rated T for implied sexual themes, nothing graphic.


Ah~ I return after a great deal of time. I haven't been writing a lot of fanfiction lately- it's mostly been poetry and short stories and things. I was looking at so much yaoi fanart today I just thought "I want to write/draw yaoi!" so I did. VERY rough, I didn't have anyone beta it, and I only just wrote it tonight. It might not make any sense at all, really -_- Still, I'll see how things work out, nee?

Another thing... I'm not sure how I feel about the title. It is about Canada and all, so it makes sense, but... it just seems so cliché. Ah well.

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**[Bittersweet Syrup]**

**I**

I suppose it's my fault for being the way I am.

I'm standing on the balcony of my house, sipping a cup of tea with syrup in it, but still it has a bitter aftertaste. I think, "It's my fault for being the way I am," and that's really the only explanation I can give myself.

Big Brother Francis is standing next to me, drinking Chinese tea. He claims it keeps his skin smooth. I can't stand the taste of the stuff- it's like ink.

"You can still go back to the party if you want, Big Brother," I say, and he scoffs and smiles.

"And leave you all alone? Please, I'm sure zat zey have more than enough people there- zey won't miss me."

I didn't go to the party for a reason. Well, I did go, but… even if I had stayed, I don't think anyone would have missed me. Except for Big Brother Francis. He's the only one who pays any attention to me; he does actually pay attention to a lot of things, even if he doesn't seem like that type of person. That's why he's here with me right now, I guess.

"I could have given zem a piece of my mind, if you had wanted," he says, and raises an eyebrow.

I shake my head, and my glasses slip down my nose. "No, I don't… as long as he's happy, that's all that matters. And it's not like either of them knew. They weren't trying to…"

Big Brother sighs and sips his tea. "You are too good for him, you know."

I don't say anything. My face is reflected in the surface of my tea, and I think of how when I squint it looks just like him.

I take a sip. The tea's gone cold, and the bittersweet taste makes my throat clench up, and I feel like maybe if I let myself cry, just a little, it might make me feel better than I do now.

**II**

If I hadn't seem them, things would have been different.

No one noticed me, wandering around Alfred's house by myself. The thing about Alfred's parties is everyone either winds up drunk, incapacitated, or asleep on the couch. Feliciano was running around the house without pants, and Ludwig was yelling at him and trying to wrestle a pair of his own pants onto Feliciano (whose own pair had ended up in the pool), and the amount of ruckus between the two was more than enough to turn people's attention away from the fact that I wasn't the only one missing.

The door was ajar. I wouldn't have looked if it had been closed. I wouldn't have looked at all, if I hadn't heard Alfred's voice coming from the room.

His wasn't the only voice.

He was talking to Arthur, but for some reason they weren't arguing. Arguing is what they always did on this day- the Fourth of July. Arthur never even usually came to Alfred's Fourth of July party.

But he had come to this one. And they definitely weren't arguing.

Definitely not arguing.

They never noticed me. No one ever notices me. I don't know how long I watched them. I don't know why. I don't know why I watched the look on Alfred's face as Arthur went down on his knees, or why I watched their bodies fit together so perfectly on that bed. I don't know why I watched Alfred being loved. Being loved by someone other than me.

I didn't even realize I was still watching until Big Brother Francis put his hand on my shoulder. Didn't realize that I had been crying.

If I had been a different person, maybe I would have burst into that room and demanded an explanation. Might have grabbed Alfred by the collar and shaken him and cried and cried and hated him because it wasn't me. Maybe if I had been a different person, it never would have happened in the first place. Instead, I wiped my eyes and smiled at Big Brother. "I'm going home."

That's just the way I am. And the only person I have to blame is myself.

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Please tell me how you felt about it! Even if you hated it, tell me! (But please don't flame... give me some good critiques. If you just didn't like it cos you just didn't like it, tell me!) I can gives you cookies baked with syrup? -holds out cookie-


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